


He's the Bafflement of Scotland Yard

by daleked



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Also cats, M/M, Spirit Animals, Vaguely Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-31
Updated: 2012-05-31
Packaged: 2017-11-06 09:06:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/417151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daleked/pseuds/daleked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a prompt on the kink meme: Everyone has a semi-transparent ghostly animal trotting at their feet, reacting with the same emotions as their person. John's always wondered if he's the only one who can see them. Bonus points:<br/>Sherlock's spirit animal takes to following John around, even when Sherlock's not there. This usually only happens with married couples. And vice versa.</p>
<p>Cleaned up and re-posted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He's the Bafflement of Scotland Yard

**Author's Note:**

> De-anoned to post the fill over here, cleaned up and all :-)

John had always been envious of Harry's beautiful sleek leopard, fully-grown even though they were just children. He supposed it meant that she was ahead of her time and she was, full of clever remarks and biting quips. Dad was followed around by a faithful bloodhound, drooping ears and sniffling the ground and sometimes giving Mummy's Shetland pony a lick when Mummy was feeling down. Harry had laughed when John told her that she was like a leopard on the wildlife channel on the telly, lazy and hanging around in trees until she could drop out of them to scare John into screaming.

John had a short dog, wonderfullly small and compact with perked-up ears and a friendly face. It responded to John on occasion when he said 'sit, boy' especially if it was eyeing up Harry's leopard stretched on the roof. He didn't know what breed it was until he turned eleven and managed to persuade Mummy to buy him the encyclopedia that promised pictures of animals, their names and where they were found. He had a Pembroke Welsh Corgi, loyal and steady and trustworthy. He wasn't overly excitable and seemed to sense things faster than John did, which was why he kept a careful eye on his dog when meeting new people. If it growled, he would know to keep the person at arm's length.

'Boy' became his dog's unofficial name. Boy followed him to Afghanistan after sitting at his feet all those years in University while he studied, and he smiled as it rolled about in the dusty ground and panted at the other soldiers' animals. He didn't see a need to tell people about their animals- what good would that do? Often, Boy would soothe the animals of the people that John was tending to, with noticeable effects on the patient.

Back in London, John bumped into Stamford. Mike had a Scottish terrier with black fur, a hard shell with a soft middle. The Scottie had liked Boy very much back in the day and wuffed in greeting, tongue lolling out and tail wagging as it trotted ahead of all of them into Bart's.

John saw the elegant cat sitting on the table before he saw its person. Rose-gray fur with brown markings and pale green eyes that watched his every move and the prominent scarab marking on its forehead. It leapt down and stared at Boy, before greeting the Scottie with a cursory nose-touch and turning away to face the man fiddling with a petri dish.

"Mike, can I borrow your phone? There's no signal on mine."

"Well, what's wrong with the landline?"

"I prefer to text."

"Sorry, it's in my coat."

The cat seemed to look up thoughtfully at John, tail waving in the air. The animals usually didn't respond to him unless the people did. Did that mean...? John came to a decision and dug in his pocket for his phone.

"Here, use mine." As the man came over, the cat neared Boy and slinked around him for a bit, sniffing and making small curious chirruping noises. As John passed his phone to the stranger, the cat stepped back and twitched its tail, wiggling it purposefully as it twined around the legs of the table.

+

 

Lestrade had a German Shepherd- law-abiding and tired with its tail drooping wearily. Its fur was tipped with grey and it had a fatigued air. It acknowledged Boy's presence and they sniffed at each other in a friendly manner, but there wasn't enough time for them to make friends. There was a crime scene to go to.

Sally Donovan had a perfectly friendly Devon Rex cat that meowed a generic hello to Boy, but hissed at Sherlock's cat aggressively and swiped at the air with extended claws. Anderson's daschund barked angrily at Sherlock's cat and trotted off, not even bothering to greet Boy.

When faced with the odd man with the umbrella, John had glanced downwards but saw nothing, realising his mistake only after Boy gave a loud bark upwards, growling at the ceiling. John quickly looked up, and saw a large horned owl settling on a rafter. It was rare to see a person with a bird, as most had mammals. He'd never seen someone with a fish before, but reckoned that it would be an odd sight to see someone on the street with a shark swimming about their body in midair.

 

+

 

John had seen the tarsier clinging to the cabbie's shoulder as he shot him. Sherlock and his cat had leapt back, surprised. And then John was running away from the scene.

When they had Chinese after the experience, Sherlock's cat had made a satisfied purring noise noise and curled up beside Boy quite contentedly. John waited till he got back before consulting his animal books, flipping through the pages until he arrived at the correct entry.

"Egyptian Mau," John had read aloud to Boy triumphantly, closing the book. "That makes sense. They're- Oh."

Mau was right beside him, draped over Boy and staring at John. Boy turned back to nose at Mau and wuffed at John, gazing up at his human with affection. John smiled at the both of them and retired to bed, turning out the light and pulling the covers up. He could make out their shapes in the gloom, and fell into a dreamless sleep.

+

Moriarty's stoat was gleeful, whipping around them even as Boy barked frantically and Mau stood, frozen and torn at Sherlock's side. 

 

+

 

Mau had taken to following John to the surgery after the pool incident, and he smiled at the cat calmly. When he returned home, Boy would be perched on Sherlock's lap as the detective typed out something on his laptop, barely paying attention to anything else.

After the Fall, John turned away from the dark tombstone and walked away with his back held stiff. He missed the flash of rose-gray fur darting in between the trees but Boy didn't, and for a moment, the dog lingered behind his human, and wagged his tail as he looked around hopefully. He could smell Mau somewhere, and lowered his head to sniff at the moss on a nearby rock.

"Come, Boy." John called. Boy glanced around one last time and ran after John obediently, secure in the knowledge that he knew, he _knew_ , that Mau and his human were somewhere out there, still alive.


End file.
